Odd Man Out
by clare009
Summary: The Doctor visits the Ponds at Christmas, but he can't tell them about the last time he saw their daughter.


Disclaimer: I don't claim to represent the creators of Doctor Who or BSG. I'm am not making money off this story.

Story Notes: Just a little flash fiction in response to 'The Doctor, The Widow and The Wardrobe'. And yes, I cried like a baby at the prologue.

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><p>Madge was right. Of course she was.<p>

As he walked through the front hallway of Amy and Rory's house, the Doctor felt something that had been bunched up under his breast bone loosen. The knot there that was wound so tight began to slip apart.

Amy had done a fabulous job decorating. He could see her touch in the silvery tinsel and bushels of red and green holly. The dining room was a Christmas wonderland and the smells that wafted from the kitchen made him swoon.

As he looked around, he caught a glimpse of the tree in the living room and felt a surge of panic.

"Amy," he said as he wheeled around. "I shouldn't be here. Not tonight. I'll come back in the morning."

He began to walk back towards the front door, but was stopped by a hand yanking his collar.

"Don't you dare," Amy said.

"But I didn't bring any presents."

"We opened all the presents this morning. Now sit down, Doctor."

Rory had pulled a chair back for him and was gesturing to it. "It's just Christmas dinner. It won't bite, you know."

The Doctor scratched his cheek. Fight or flight was a code written into his bones, and right now, it was telling him to run. Instead, he forced himself to take one step, and then another, until he was able to grab hold of the chair and seat himself firmly in it. "Yeah. Of course. Christmas dinner - I can do that, can't I? It's just eating, you know, with other people."

"Exactly." Amy slapped him on the back. "We're family, after all. Who else would you spend Christmas with if it isn't your family?"

The Doctor swallowed. He began to play with the cutlery at his place setting. "Family?"

Rory frowned. "Yeah, of course we're family. You did marry our daughter."

"Oh. Yes. That." He gave the Ponds a smile that he hoped didn't look as sick as he suddenly felt. They were both frowning at him now. That wasn't good

"You know, River, our daughter," Amy said. "That sort of makes us your, um, in-laws. I know, little weird, but we've had a couple of years to get used to the idea."

"I see. Yes. Right." The festive serviette in front of him with the little embroidered Christmas trees was suddenly fascinating. The Doctor examined the stitching closely. He mentally traced the thread from start to finish.

"Doctor," there was a warning in Rory's voice, one that he knew was not idle, "you do remember you married our daughter?"

He put the serviette down. There was nothing he could say, even if he wanted to. The last time he had seen his wife, he had taken her to the singing towers. But, of course, he couldn't tell her parents that he'd basically sent her to her death.

"Look, we know it was in an alternate timeline that never existed, and the ceremony was, well, crap if you really think about it, but we were all there and we all remember it, so it most definitely counts. If you're trying to worm out of the whole thing, mister, think again." He could hear the tight fury in Amy's voice. When he looked up, her arms were crossed over her chest.

This was the pain he had been trying to avoid. The rush of joy he'd felt at being welcomed in by the Ponds melted away, to be replaced by the cold, hard ache he didn't want to feel. Madge was right. It hurt so much. The Doctor shook his head. "No. I would never."

Amy narrowed her eyes at him, then nodded once. "All right then. Let's have dinner."

"Yes! Let's have dinner. Dinner among friends. Family. Among family." That somehow made it a little better. He was able to put the pain aside for the moment. But not bury it. Oh no - he knew it would not be buried again. He'd have to face it, sooner or later. He smiled, more warmly than before, at his dear friends. "So, what's on the menu, Ponds? Because I've worked up quite an appetite. Let me tell you, I'm famished."

"Goose," Rory said. A strange smile played over his lips.

"Oh, I love a good Christmas goose. Is it ready yet?"

"I do believe it's cooked." The light in Amy's eyes mirrored Rory's smile.

"Fully cooked." Rory said.

The Doctor, clutching his knife and fork in each hand, looked from one to the other. "There's something I'm missing, aren't I? Something pretty big."

"Yep," said Rory.

He looked at each of them in turn, then around the dining room. All the Christmas decorations were in place, there were cards hanging from the mantle of the empty fireplace, and mistletoe was hung in the entry to the living room. The table was decorated in red and silver with touches of green. There was an eclectic mix of candles in the centre that threw a soft glow and bounced reflections off crystal glasses. The dinnerware looked like they had a bit of age to them. They were part of a set, but each dish had a unique design. There were four place settings meticulously laid out for dinner.

The Doctor shifted in his seat. "You said you always leave a place for me. Who is the other one for?"

"Who do you think, my love?"

His hearts stopped. In the doorway to the kitchen, River was framed in light.

He mouthed an 'Oh' but couldn't make the sound come out. He didn't want to know how she was there or from when. It only mattered that she was. The solid knot in his chest unraveled completely, and when he blinked, and she was still there, he noticed his eyes were wet again.

"Happy Christmas, Doctor," Amy said softly.


End file.
